


Not Alone

by DaireneCallahan



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 07:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23847127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaireneCallahan/pseuds/DaireneCallahan
Summary: A vague, loose fanfiction based on the events of the fanfiction "I'm Alone" by Ambrose Vox, but massively altered... because I want to, I guess





	1. Groundfall

2536 CE, on board the Paris-class heavy frigate, UNSC Horizon, in orbit around Skopje, Inner Colonies of UNSC Space...

Lieutenant Arcturus Dare, Operations Officer on the UNSC Horizon walked onto the bridge to report to her superior. "Captain, all dropships are away. Operations commencing as expected."

"Excellent," The ship's captain, Chiaki Fujikawa, replied. "Navigation, take us into patrol position. It's time to let the Marines flush Innie scum."

"This is a waste of time," Lieutenant Kali Kardashev, the weapons officer, muttered under her breath. "I signed up to fight fucking Covvies…"

"Excuse me?" Captain Fujikawa's eyes flashed. "Care to repeat that, Lieutenant?"

"Wha- N-no, ma'am!" The Lieutenant stammered hastily.

"I didn't think so," Captain Fujikawa remarked authoritatively. "Insurrectionists are traitorous scum- some of lowest of the low- thieves and murderers. Our ships are patrolling in orbit, to capture or eliminate any who might try to escape the planet- by crushing them here and now, we make sure supplies make it to our brothers and sisters on the front lines, not in the hands of Innie bandits!"

"Yes, ma'am!" The bridge crew quickly quickly agreed, though with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Captain, the Journeyman and Penelope have reached their patrol routes," The sensors officer, Ensign Elizaveta Bloch reported, referring to the Horizon's smaller Charon-class light frigate escort vessels."

"Ma'am, if I may," the ship's executive officer, Commander Eric Jianhart, brought up. "I am still concerned that so many frigates are pulled from the frontline to some behind-the-lines shipyard world just to hunt for what is, at most, a tiny handful of rebel ships. Assuming they have any operation vessels at all. Surely a couple of corvettes could handle this mission?"

Captain Fujikawa sighed. "This mission was authorized by ONI, so we have to presume they know something we don't. Besides, even if we weren't here, chances are, we'd just be sitting our asses around some other Inner Colony world, waiting for a Covvie attack that isn't going to come."

"What if it has to do with the tales of the new rebel group, the 'Red Arrows'?" The communications officer, Ensign Kasumi Sanka suggested excitedly. "They say entire convoys have vanished because of them, that they appear and disappear like ghosts! Some even say they have a fucking Marathon-class heavy cruiser!"

"That's just an Waypoint rumor, an urban legend, Ensign," Commander Jianhart scoffed. "There are only a handful of Marathons left of service, all of their locations well-documented, and no rebel installation would have the infrastructure or manpower to construct such a massive undertaking. Even the UNSC only has so many to spare."

"But sir," The impressionable young lieutenant insisted. "We HAVE been losing a lot of worlds in the Western Reaches of the Outer Colonies-"

"In case you haven't noticed, we have a massive alien empire invading Human space," Commander Jianhart commented dryly. "That men and women are fighting and dying in the millions just to slow them down. I'd say you focus on that, and not some unfounded rumors created by some rich kid on Waypoint with too much time on their hands."

"Uh… we have S-Slipspace signatures!" Ensign Bloch cried out. "T-two appear to be about cruiser-size… one matching a Marathon-class heavy cruiser! O-one of them matches a Covenant Battlecruiser! And one- one- what in the stars is that?!"

Four huge capital ships had emerged in the system- including a massive vessel over two kilometers long. It was larger than any Covenant warship so far encountered, and nearly as long as a Phoenix-class UNSC carrier, except bristling with weapons. The warship looked vaguely of human design, but matched no known records, and was honestly a lot more intimidating than many blocky UNSC warships, with a prominent, angular bow.

In addition, more than a dozen smaller vessels poured out of Slipspace as well- Mako-class corvettes, a Covenant heavy corvette, Laden-class freighters, Parabola-class freighters, Behemoth-class tugboats, UEG Police Cutters.

And each one, from the two-kilometer behemoth to the puny freighters with mismatched weaponry that seemed more distraction that combatant, were emblazoned with a red arrowhead symbol.

"Captain, what do we do?" Lieutenant Dare asked urgently.

"Looks like we have hostiles," Captain Fujikawa narrowed her eyes furiously, knowing her three-frigate patrol force was blatantly outgunned. "Bring us around and charge MAC cannons! Prepare to fire Archer missiles at my command! Warn our forces on the surface they may have hostiles incoming!"

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2536 CE, on board the Revolutionary Front Iridium-class battleship, RFV Auridium Sun, in orbit around Skopje, Inner Colonies of UNSC Space...

Alarm klaxons blared across the ship as its weapons turned to prepare to engage the three UNSC frigates the ship's sensors had detected in the system.

In the center of the bridge sat the Chairperson of the Revolutionary Front, Joanna Marcell- who'd wanted to oversee the operation personally- examined the sensor readings calmly. "All ships, fire when ready! Target the enemy's MAC cannon and engines! Crippling shots only! And launch starfighters!"

Next to the Chairperson, the ship's captain, Aurelia Kast, kept glancing at Joanna. She could hardly imagine someone less suited to command a battle- Joanna was a civilian, the Revolutionary Front's founding political ideologue, cunning enough to surround herself with capable people, but little more than that. If the Revolutionary Front wasn't confronting the enemy with such superior force, Captain Kast probably would have outright refused to serve under Joanna's nominal command.

And, as a diehard, veteran Insurrectionist, Kast would've wanted to blow the UNSC ships away at the first opportunity. She'd seen too many of her comrades- friends- cut down under UNSC guns. But the Chairperson had repeatedly insisted that the UNSC "were not the real enemy" they should be fighting, that this mission was a humanitarian evacuation mission, not one aimed at destruction.

"And who is the real enemy, I wonder. Not even the Covvies, perhaps," Captain Kast muttered, glancing over to the ship's executive officer, a Kig-Yar alien, Commander Koth Zhuz. Although far outnumbered by the Human members, the Revolutionary Front sported members of over a half-dozen alien races, including Covenant deserters, outcasts, and dissidents. Joanna could be quite the scheming politician, full of gilded half-truths, yet so surprisingly idealistic at times.

Archer missiles, MAC rounds, and plasma turrets fired from the Auridium Sun, despite being far out of range.

"Captain Sentzke of the Naomi is requesting permission to close the gap and engage the enemy at close quarters!" The communications officer, Lieutenant Maxwell Baden, reported.

Chairperson Marcell narrowed her eyes. Captain Staffan Sentzke's hatred of the UNSC was well-known, and it frequently clouded his judgement during operations.

"Tell him permission is denied," Joanna stated flatly. "He is to stay course and keep his ship out of the enemy's range. Let the drone vessels and starfighters harass those frigates!"

"Make sure he watches those shields!" Captain Kast reminded. "The last thing we'd want is for a Shiva nuke to slip through!"

While the capital ships had been firing, a large number of mismatched starfighters and attack drones were being launched from the hangars- Covenant Seraphs, Longswords, outdated Nangdo fighters, and even just RQ-XII recon drones with a gun mounted on top. They'd all been modified to be piloted by dumb AIs- and while lacking many of the skills of human pilots, they were designed to be sacrificial pawns.

With the UNSC frigates quickly becoming occupied by a swarm of the Revolutionary Front's drone corvettes, souped-up freighters, tugboats, police cutters, and fighters, the main force moved toward the far side of the planet.

Every UNSC ship in the system would now be scrambling to defend Skopje's considerable shipyards- the obvious target of an enemy strike. Yet that was not the Revolutionary Front's objective at all- by the time most of the UNSC finally understood that, it would be far too late.

The Insurrectionist capital ships began launching their assault craft- Covenant Phantoms and Spirits, Human-designed Pelicans, Darters, Herons, Albatrosses, civilian shuttles, even a few stealthy Owls.

Of course, escort fighters and drones swept ahead of them, some to clear out potential threats, others to draw fire away from the transports, but it was still the most nerve-wracking part of the operation, the one most at risk of losing men either to UNSC anti-air defenses, or nervous, trigger-happy Insurrectionists.

The Covenant-designed transports in particular could only be landed quite some distance away from any settlements, with RF Marines forced to take more conventional ground vehicles to get from the LZ to the Insurrectionist sites they'd been designated to evacuate.


	2. That Fateful Day

Vivian Waters watched the Marine withdraw his knife and grabbed the flashlight. He turned it off and stepped away. Another pair of booted feet entered the room.

"How many?" The new arrival asked in an English accident.

"Five. Five girls with pistols," The one who'd killed Vivian's friends answered. "Fuck, the last one nearly cut my throat. I had to kill her with my uh…" He waved his combat knife.

"Sure," The other replied. "What did ya expect from this lot? How'd you get that close anyways?"

"I was, I was trying to… I was…"

"Easy, easy. Never mind."

Vivian saw the new arrival put an arm around the first man's shoulder for a few moments.

In that instant, there was an explosion outside, followed by the sound of shooting.

"Christ, what was that?!" The first man exclaimed.

The other man inclined his head as indistinct radio sounds could be heard. "Fuck, looks like our team got hit by an ambush! Let's go!" The two men rushed down the stairs and out of sight.

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Revolutionary Guard General Mukuro Ikusaba smirked from the shadows as she saw the UNSC Marines run off toward the firefight. Evidently, her bait using Loki combat bots and a strafing run by a F-99 Wombat drone had been successful.

She activated her Covenant-derived camouflage system and rushed forward into the building ahead. It seemed she was almost certainly too late to save whatever Insurrectionist forces had been in the building, but she still wanted to check.

How things had changed for her- she remembered how she'd been a mercenary and contract killer. Growing up as uneducated orphans on the street in an Outer Colony world war-torn by Insurrectionary violence, there weren't a lot of opportunities for legitimate employment.

She was barely ten when her parents, both Insurrectionists, had been killed by UNSC forces, forcing her to take care of her little sister by herself. Not that they had been good parents to begin with. As it turned out, on a wartorn world, killing paid well, and few people suspected a child, especially a girl, of being a killer.

She worked for anyone who paid, so long as it wasn't too risky- Insurrectionist factions, mercenary groups, the Colonial Guard, corrupt government officials, crime bosses. It didn't matter who the targets were either, or why- she'd helped Innies kill UNSC forces, killed off Innie cells for the Colonial Guard, killed Innie cells on behalf of other Innie cells during factional infighting, assassinated rivaling politicians or crimelords. Whether her victims were murderous assholes with blood on their hands or innocent civilians didn't matter. Heck, she'd bombed a school before and murdered children- so long as she was paid, she couldn't care less why.

Some clients did try to double-cross her- but they never lived long. Mukuro was cunning, ruthless, with sharp survival instincts, and an innate talent for combat, and she often changed her guise, pseudonym, and manner of killing, to avoid leaving any sort of "trademark".

So it was a surprise even to herself how quickly she'd become enamored by the Revolutionary Front's Chairperson, Joanna Marcell, and it wasn't just because of all the help she'd given to Mukuro's sister. For the first time in her life, Mukuro felt… intimate loyalty to someone other than her sister.

Perhaps, Joanna represented the attachment that Mukuro had craved all her life. Her parents had hardly been loving- and while she loved her little sister, their relationship was...cold. Part of it came from Mukuro constantly having to hide her activities from her, part of it from her desire to spare her sister from the horrors of the world. Good intentions that left a strained relationship. However, she found she could truly open up for the first time in her life in front of Joanna. She wasn't judgemental, she always listened- simple perhaps, but it meant the world to Mukuro.

Before long, Mukuro found herself smiling and nodding, as Joanna poured her ideology into Mukuro, making the Front's- no, really Joanna's- values her own. Before long, thanks to both her loyalty and exemplary skills, she'd found herself becoming essentially Joanna's top operative, personal enforcer, and… bedmate.

So, in another time, Mukuro wouldn't have hesitated to systematically slaughter the entire UNSC Marine battalion in the town, collapsing entire buildings on them with explosives and sniping them down one by one from the darkness, while showy robots and drones drew all their fire.

But Joanna had said the UNSC wasn't the true enemy, that it was best to avoid killing them as much as possible. Joanna said the key mission here was to save lives, and that was what Mukuro would try to do.

Slipping inside the building, Mukuro found one may lying with a gunshot wound right outside the door, and quickly carried him upstairs. As she expected, most of the bodies were there- five young girls. Luckily, none had been shot in the head. Mukuro thanked the heavens for how well UNSC Marines were trained to shoot for center-of-mass.

Immediately, she drew an experimental nano-bot mixture made from Forerunner tech, and injected the man and the five girls with it. Six minutes without oxygen and the brain begins to die, Mukuro thought, but with this, it can be extended, the brain preserved indefinitely.

The nanobots worked by surrounding each brain cell and surrounding it, preserving its shape, its connections. Granted, there was likely already some deterioration, and even with all the Revolutionary Front had learned from Forerunner tech, it might still take years to complete neuronal pathway reconstruction- not to mention growing whole new bodies for them- but as long as Mukuro could get these bodies out of there, there was hope.

Then Mukuro tensed- her instincts screamed that she wasn't alone, though she also sensed little in the way of danger. A faint, faint breathing sound. She quickly adjusted her night-vision goggles to infrared, and instantly spotted the figure hiding in a pantry with several bullet holes. No telltale cooler sign of a weapon, but the person could be hiding it behind their person.

"Come out, hands up!" Mukuro stated, cautiously placing her hand on her sidearm. In such close quarters, bringing out the rifle slung on her back would likely only be detrimental. "Who are you?" She opened the pantry door, to reveal a teenage girl sobbing silently, a look of abject horror on her face. It looked like she was unarmed.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" Mukuro asked.

"You!" The girl suddenly let out a word full of loathing. "You killed them! You killed my friends! You're going to kill me too!"

"What, no!" Mukuro exclaimed. "I'm not-"

The girl suddenly shoved Mukuro aside, and ran pell-mell down the stairs as if all the forces of hell were after her.

"Stop, where are you going? I'm going to call in an extraction! You don't have to go- you don't have to go back to the UNSC!" Mukuro shouted after her.

But the girl had vanished into the night. Whether or not she'd heard Mukuro, there was no reply.

"Damn it…" Mukuro muttered. If she wanted, she could go after the girl, hunt her down. But time was growing short, and she wasn't willing to risk leaving the vulnerable bodies here. Plus, she didn't even know if she was an Innie. Maybe just a civilian caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Heck, maybe even a hostage. Regardless, Mukuro had to make a split-second decision.

She turned on her radio and hoped the girl would find her own way to safety. "Colonel Soresi, I need one of your Owls here now! Six OHCA incapaciated for extraction. Enemy forces are currently diverted, but they could come back any moment!"


	3. Just Business

On board the Revolutionary Front Iridium-class battleship, RFV Auridium Sun, in orbit around Skopje, Inner Colonies of UNSC Space...

Chairperson Joanna Marcell watched from the balcony overlooking the hangar as the shuttles and transports flooded in, as fast as the Auridium Sun could take them in. Joanna knew it was likely the same situation on the other capital ships.

For the time being, the UNSC forces were kept preoccupied by Revolutionary Front autonomous fighters, auxiliaries, and drones harassing their shipyards with light weaponry. In addition, on the surface, the Army and Marines were busy fighting to destroy all the little presents the Revolutionary Front had left behind- drones, robots, various autonomous combat platforms, though mostly armed with nonlethal weaponry designed to confuse, blind, incapacitate, and distract hostile ground forces.

But it was only a matter of time before they came for the Revolutionary Front fleet, and the last thing the RF wanted was for the poorly-armored, near-defenseless shuttles and transports to be caught in the middle.

Most of the hundreds of occupants that poured out did so on their own two feet, many terrified or confused, but otherwise unharmed.

But there were the unlucky ones- Innies whose positions who'd been hit by the UNSC before the Revolutionary Front could sweep through, and those caught up in hot landing zones. Some were screaming in pain before the medics could pump them full of painkillers, or just plain unconscious, in shock from severe blood loss, patients missing limbs or disemboweled by machine guns and explosions.

In all the hectic pandemonium, Joanna spotted one black-haired woman in Revolutionary Front Urtis IV-class battle armor, who was waving frantically to several medics. With that, Joanna let a small smile grace her face.

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Olympic Tower, UNSC Fleet Command Headquarters, New Alexandria, Eposz, Reach, Epsilon Eridani System, Inner Colonies of UNSC Space...

Commander-in-Chief of the Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI), Vice Admiral Margaret Parangosky walked into her office, locked the door, and carefully scanned it for any listening devices. She'd never had anyone bug her office in Olympic Tower, but it didn't hurt to be careful.

Then she opened an encrypted channel.

On the other end, a face emerged- revealing none other than Chairperson of the Revolutionary Front, Joanna Marcell.

"Greetings, Vice Admiral! I trust you are well?" Marcell began with an unusually chipper voice.

"I trust you found my information useful?"

"Very much so," Joanna nodded sagely. "Our raid on Skopje was a successful operation."

"You look rather pleased with yourself," Vice Admiral Parangosky commented.

"I accomplished my objectives," Joanna stated simply.

"A few thousand ragtag Innies? Their dependents and sympathetic civilians?" Parangosky raised her eyes in surprise. "That for the loss of ships- even corvettes- fighters, robots, drones? Even if you didn't lose troops, that's a hefty loss of equipment there."

"Who can place a price on human life?" Joanna smiled, a charming, sweet smile.

If Parangosky hadn't had years to train how to read people, she might well have been fooled by it. Even now, she was almost taken by it. Almost. The girl had charisma, and she knew it.

"Right," Parangosky narrowed her eyes. "If you really cared about saving human lives, why don't I see your considerable 'assets' defending worlds being glassed by the Covenant? Save me that bullshit and get down to business."

"And here I thought I had the act down," Joanna dropped the guise and looked coldly at Parangosky. "We both deal in necessary evils, Vice Admiral. Perhaps there's more alike to us than you know."

Parangosky shifted uncomfortably and decided not to respond to that provocative statement.

"Anyway, you kept the end of the deal, so the Forerunner bots are yours. However, if you want that Covenant battlecruiser, you'll need to fulfill the second part of the deal."

"No," Parangosky stated. "The Spartans are worth an entire fleet."

"Oh? Explain why UNSC worlds keep getting glassed one by one?" Joanna smirked. "We haven't got any Spartans, and we've held the line just fine. Heck, we've started pushing them back, as you probably well know. I've seen your prowlers on the fringes of our space."

Parangosky bit her lip, wondering where the woman's boundaries were. Joanna was so hard to read. Sometimes, cold and calculating one moment, and chatting frivolously the next. What did she really feel- did she feel at all? "The UNSC can't spare five Spartans. One."

"Three. We'll throw in a SDV-class heavy corvette in too. The Sangheili design them well."

"Wait a minute…" Parangorsky narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean by 'Sangheili'?" Though she already had an inkling.

"It's what the Elites call themselves. Their species name. Or the closest approximation to it in English, anyway."

"You have prisoners…"

"Surely you have some too?" Joanna raised an eyebrow.

"That's… classified." Parangorsky stated. "Fine, one Spartan. If you throw some prisoners into the mix. Commanders too- Elites- not just some dumb Grunts."

"And I can specify the one I want? Trust me, I'm not about to take the best. That's not what I'm after. Here."

Parangorsky received the names and rapidly cross-checked their performance record. Obviously phenomenal compared to any ordinary soldier, but she couldn't find much to set her apart from the rest.

"Fine, you get her. But whether or not she cooperates is entirely up to her. Do we have a deal, then?"

"Deal." Joanna let a shit-eating grin spread across her face, as if she'd expected Parangorsky to reach this deal all along.

The feeling of being manipulated was unnerving for the Vice Admiral, who was used to pulling the strings herself. "Good to do business with you. Until next time." She shut off the transmission, while mentally thinking, 'Fuck you, Joanna.'

On the other of the transmission, Joanna leaned back in her chair and laughed quietly. If only the ONI chief knew she already had a Spartan in her possession...


End file.
